Earth Men Don't Cry
by sheridan
Summary: The arns after Zhann's death.


Title:Earth Men Don't Cry  
  
Author:sheridan, email: sheridan15@hotmail.com  
  
Archiving: Anywhere  
  
Disclaimer: I know - they aren't mine!  
  
Rating: PG-13, for language and implied situations  
  
Category: Drama/Romance  
  
Spoilers:Self-Inflicted Wounds, Wait for the Wheel  
  
Summary: The arns after Zhaan's death.  
  
Thanks to my beta readers for their help - windfiredva and Danni. They kept me honest.  
And to Anne - who listens to my ramblings and has become a teacher and a friend.  
  
  
  
EARTH MEN DON'T CRY  
  
  
Banging my head against the wall felt good. And, it kept that fucking Scorpy clone quiet. As Ryg would say, "Bonus!".  
  
I'd spent the past arn in Zhaan's quarters, hoping for some of that "peace of mind, peace of spirit, peace of soul" that she had been talking about, right at the end. Whatever. I couldn't seem to find it here, where everything reminded me of her.  
  
Eventually, I'd go to Aeryn, but not yet.  
  
Guilt is a funny emotion, one that can lead you into a maze of incomprehension. I feel guilty about so many things that it is hard to remember where my line of accountability starts and ends. Maybe I hadn't caused Zhaan's death, but I sure as hell felt the burden of responsibility.  
  
What is it they say? "With great power, comes great responsibility?" Well, I seem to have the responsibility part down. When does the "great power" part kick in, anyway?  
  
Hunger finally drove me down the corridor in search of food. How many arns had it been since I had eaten last? At least a solar day ago. Zhaan had handed me a pouch of those orange veggie sticks.  
  
"Find Aeryn and convince her to eat, John," Zhaan had told me.  
  
My mothers are always dying.  
  
Nora McDougall Crichton had died on the tenth of March, the year I 'd started writing my doctoral thesis. The twins must have been seniors in high school, or maybe even freshmen in university, Laurie at Florida State and Annie at Cal Tech. Mom's health had been run down at Thanksgiving, in and out of the hospital by Christmas. I never saw her alive after New Year's Day.  
  
Now, Zhaan was gone, sacrificing her life for my new family, for all of us. Aeryn would carry bucket loads of guilt.  
  
I didn't want to think about Zhaan, it hurt too much. Thankfully, my growling stomach gave me the perfect excuse. Eating would be a welcome distraction.  
  
***  
  
D'Argo and Aeryn were already at the table, a bottle of reslak between them. Damn. A drink sounded like a real good idea right about now - something a little stronger than reslak though.  
  
The memory of Glenfiddich attacked my senses, the smoke-filled, burning peat smell, the smooth oaky taste. My mind flashed to the trip Alex and I had made - what was it - four years ago? We were in Scotland, a little place called Speyside, famous for the snow topped mountains, grassy green valleys,crystalline waters, and single malt whiskey.  
  
More human nonsense. A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.  
  
My two alien friends weren't talking. He just stared at the wall; she was focused on the floor. I could tell I had walked in on a private conversation, one that wouldn't continue as long as I was standing there.  
  
I stared at the two of them for a microt, not really seeing them. His face was tear-streaked and her thin, pale fingers clenched his big fist. With a grunt of recognition, I grabbed the first things I saw, a handful of food cubes and a flask of water, and left them to their commiseration.  
  
I barely made it out of sight before I could hear D'Argo murmuring. I paused to listen. A raw sob flamed up my throat and lodged there. His voice began chanting a litany, "Too soon. Too soon."  
  
Over and over.  
  
"What is too soon, D'Argo?" she asked. I could feel the calming effect she was having on him, it worked on me too. A balm; comfort without intrusion.  
  
Was this a warrior thing? It obviously excluded me.  
  
D'Argo murmured something else, this time pitched too low for me to hear. Aeryn responded to that, saying something my translator microbes couldn't decipher, a ritual phrase of some sort. Luxan, maybe? Whatever it was, the next quiet rumbling from D'Argo sounded much more at peace.  
  
I didn't know Aeryn spoke Luxan. Maybe that was because of the microbes, but I wondered why she had never mentioned it?  
  
And where the frell had her compassion suddenly come from? Without even thinking about it, I turned back, wanting to ask these questions, needing the answers, then stopped as my better sense grabbed hold of me. Hot rage was flaring red before me, and I didn't know at whom. I just knew I couldn't stand to listen to any of it. His pain. Her...her...what? Her humanity, for Christ's sake?!  
  
***  
  
I plodded down the corridor, no destination in mind, eyes burning and head aching from the lack of sleep. Footsteps began to pace me from behind. An icy bath of recognition flooded over me a microt after I had already whirled, Winona clasped in my hand, finger squeezing on the trigger.  
  
There stood Scorpius, his head tightly bound in his black leather skullcap, pale flesh oozing in wrinkled ravines, flowing toward his grotesque mockery of a smile.  
  
"Tut, tut, John," Scorpius fussed. "You can't kill me. Not that way." He gently pushed my arm down, dragging a suggestive hand along my shoulder. One gloved finger ran up the nape of my neck to play with the scar now hidden in my hair. His subtle way of pointing out just how well my last attempt to kill him had worked.  
  
Sighing, I pressed the pistol back into her holster and let both arms hang limply at my sides. Not in defeat, just unwilling to play the game.  
  
The clone smiled, and his blackened teeth reminded me so much of Moya's burnt interior that I gagged. Can he read my every thought? Was that a flicker of hurt behind his pale eyes?  
  
Something else flickered behind those eyes. Ah. Retaliation time.  
  
"Where is Aeryn?" he purred. "Ah, yes. I recall. Aeryn betrays you with Ka D'Argo, John. She chooses to give comfort to the Luxan."  
  
That one stung. "No. No, she doesn't, you ass-hole. Shut up."  
  
His lips pulled back and I was starting to recognize the sneer Scorpius gave me when he thought I was only fooling myself.  
  
He strolled away. "Right you are. *You* are the Judas." He turned one last time before leaving me to contemplate his words.  
  
"You sold Zhaan to keep yourself safe and Aeryn with you."  
  
That one really hurt. I wondered when Harvey had learned to hurt me with so few words. When did the Scorpy clone get so friggin' smart?  
  
"I told you to shut the hell up!" I yelled at his retreating back. It was a weak retort, but the only one I could think of. I didn't need that freak to state the obvious.  
  
***  
  
Muffled crying was coming from Chiana's chamber and I slowed to peek inside. Her tiny gray body was curled around a gauzy blue scarf. One of Zhaan's. One that had gone missing nearly a cycle ago. Little thief.  
  
"Pip," I said quietly. I shouldn't have worried; Chiana was too far gone to be frightened by a voice. Lucky child.  
  
I sat down beside her on the bed and reached out to comb her pale hair away from where it was plastered to her face. Nebaris cry beautifully, did you ever notice that?  
  
Well, at least Chi does. Huge crystalline tears drip so slowly from her black eyes. Her face never gets red and blotchy, her eyes never puff up. Just those silvery tears.  
  
She clambered into my lap, so much like a child that I cuddled her close and tucked the scarf against her face. She had loved Zhaan, I knew that. Although there were times that I wasn't so sure Chiana knew it herself...  
  
Well, she definitely knew it now.  
  
We sat like that for God-knows-how-long as time seemed to stand still around us. Finally the tears stopped altogether, and a small voice spoke from somewhere around my shoulder.  
  
"Hey, old man," she whispered. "Thanks."  
  
I tipped up her chin, running my thumb over her powdery skin and looked hard at her face. "You okay?"  
  
"Uh huh. Just tired. So very tired." Long inky-black lashes closed over her eyes. "You can put me down now."  
  
"It's okay, Pip," I murmured. "I got nowhere else to go. Nothin' better to do."  
  
No response, she was already asleep. I settled back on the bed, leaning against Moya's slightly pulsating wall, warm and golden. I watched the hair on my arms fluff around from Chi's deep breathing.  
  
Exactly when had I adopted this one?  
  
For the first time in monens, I thought about the future. Not mine. That was pointless. But, what about Chiana? Someday she would leave Moya. Where would she go? Probably to her brother. Would Neri welcome her into his organization, or would he try to send the little juvenile delinquent away? And what exactly would she do if he did send her away? Go back to her old life, slinking, sleeping and stealing her way around the galaxy?  
  
We had all been careful not to talk much about Chiana's relationship with D'Argo. Only Zhaan, with her ability to put a positive spin on any situation, thought the Nebari and Luxan should be together - if only for the happiness of those times. Never mind the outcome, which we all knew was going to be devastating.  
  
And after the devastation hit...Rygel had groused about body-breeders. Pilot kept his opinion to himself, and out of respect for a fellow warrior who was acting like a fool, Aeryn pretended not to notice. Peacekeepers are good at that.  
  
Me? I just saw a wild-child and a lonely man, each looking for something elusive. And not a chance in the world that anything permanent could come of the whole mess.  
  
My legs had gone to sleep long ago, and Chiana had drooled a little wet patch on the sleeve of my shirt. I was suddenly aware of a silent sentinel. D'Argo slipped into the room, eyeing Chiana in my arms. He had that confused look on his face that I remember so well from right before hyper-rage.  
  
"Dee-Man. I'm glad you're here," I said before he could open his mouth to ask what I was doing here. I stumbled clumsily to my feet and quickly deposited the sleeping girl into his arms.  
  
D'Argo glanced at Chiana, then at me as I cut him off at the pass again, making an "I gotta go" motion with my hands. "Dude, I gotta pee, and I mean right now," I said. Turning away, I grabbed my flask of water and escaped out the door, leaving the Luxan gaping in my wake.  
  
***  
  
"Well done, John. Well done." Scorpius again. I kept walking, hoping the monster would get the hint and go away.  
  
"Don't ignore me, John Crichton. Stark is probably trying to recover what is left of Shreena's body. He will need your help."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I'm going." I stopped dead in my tracks. "Don't you have someone else you could torture for awhile? I am definitely thinking it's Dumpster Time."  
  
The clone disappeared.  
  
***  
  
Rygel floated beside me as I started down the ladders that lead to Moya's lowest levels. He had volunteered to show me where Stark was waiting with the intruder's body.  
  
"You may not understand this, Human, but I considered Zhaan to be my primary advisor whilst here in the Uncharted Territories. I shall miss her wise counsel."  
  
I paused in my descent to look at the Hynerian. Really look at him. There was none of the usual self-centered cockiness there, only gentle grief.  
  
"I know, Sparky, I know. She was the best in each of us." I reached out a hand to pat his tiny green one.  
  
"Come on. Let's get this over with. This night has dragged on long enough."  
  
These were parts of Moya that I had never explored. Layer after layer of Pilot's tendrils wove around and through the ship's golden inner walls.  
  
Finally, Rygel chuffed, "This is it," and led me out onto a walkway. Stark was waiting with a body bag he had retrieved from the Peacekeeper storeroom. We had used more than one of those body bags in the past two cycles.  
  
The face and upper body of the alien were virtually untouched by death. Pushing aside thoughts about what her hopes and dreams might have been, I reached in and held her body still while Stark began to untangle her from Pilot.  
  
Since the lower half of her was gone, this really wasn't such a difficult task. Rygel closed the bag over her pretty face, while Stark mumbled some words that sounded suspiciously like a Delvian prayer.  
  
I stood back and waited. A trickle of sweat curled down my backbone, pooling at the waistband of my pants. I shrugged my shoulders to relieve some of the tension. It had been a long night.  
  
It was about then that I noticed how clean Stark smelled. I leaned closer and sniffed. Yep, it was him. And he had on the new clothes that Zhaany had bought him on that last commerce planet.  
  
Now that we were wealthy, we could purchase anything we wanted. Well, almost.  
  
Rising to his feet, Stark stroked the new jacket smooth and smiled at his own memories. Okay, too much for me. I grabbed a handle at the end of Shreena's makeshift coffin, motioning Stark to get the other end.  
  
As we carried our little burden to one of Moya's waste tunnels, Stark spoke at last.  
  
"Her soul is gone," he announced.  
  
"What?" I wondered who was he talking about.  
  
"Shreena. Her spirit is no longer here. I think she must have moved on already, with Pathfinder Neeyala and the others."  
  
"Good." Rygel was in no mood for being sympathetic to the creatures that had caused such chaos and death. He opened the cover to the waste tunnel and we stuffed the body bag inside as carefully as possible.  
  
I'd had about enough myself, and left the two of them to clear the vents and space the body.  
  
Grabbing the first ladder, I started climbing. And climbing. I thought about all the ladders in my life. The one that lead to my bunk bed when I was a five year old. The one DK and I built to our tree house when we were in third grade. All the ladders aboard the USS Eisenhower, the aircraft carrier where I'd flown missions from before finishing my doctorate and joining IASA. The ladder Dad had fallen from while painting the house yellow for Mom, the year before she died. That one should have been mine too.  
  
Oh yeah. A regular Jack and the Beanstalk. That's me.  
  
***  
  
Pilot's chamber was dimly lit. His eyes remained closed as I finally crawled off the last ladder and up onto his console. I had hoped to find Aeryn here, but it didn't matter. This was my last stop for the night.  
  
"Pilot? You awake?"  
  
At that moment I felt alone in the dark. He didn't make a sound - and around us nothing moved, not a DRD was present, not the ever present murmuring of the ship. Even the act of breathing didn't stir his exoskeleton.  
  
Panic smashed into my gut. I knew he had been unconscious earlier, and that Moya was in terrible shape. Sliding down inside the console, I turned his huge head with my hands.  
  
"Pilot! Damn it, are you alright?"  
  
Those giant yellow eyes opened, just a slit, and then closed again.  
  
"Commander Crichton. I am tending to Moya. Excuse me. I don't have the strength to carry on a conversation with you right now."  
  
Right then I knew I should leave, but..."How is Moya doing, Pilot? Is there anything we can do to help her? To help you?"  
  
He didn't even open his eyes. "I'm afraid there is nothing any of us can do right now, Commander. With time, I believe Moya's health will recover."  
  
Apparently deciding that I wasn't leaving, Pilot restored some of the ambient light, and with a press to a console button, the familiar pulse of Moya's heartbeat was once again audible.  
  
Unbelievable relief flooded my soul at the sound of that heartbeat, and without even thinking, words poured out of me in response to that relief. "Does she blame me, Pilot?" I asked. "Does Moya blame me? I'd give anything, anything at all if I could undo the past weeken."  
  
Here, finally, is the truth that I've been avoiding. My self-indulgence. My need to investigate the wormhole had led directly to the two ships colliding, the death of the aliens and the death of Zhaan. Moya's pain and grief at losing Zhaan was just one part of the entire crushing load.  
  
Even the air dragging in and out of my lungs was oppressive. The burden of guilt was mine alone.  
  
One of Pilot's arm-like appendages crept around my back, a gesture meant to be comforting. His is the burden of service.  
  
"Go rest, John Crichton. There is nothing to be gained by continuing this discussion. Moya and I are very tired."  
  
I had to be satisfied with that answer, as Pilot's eyes drifted closed again.  
  
***  
  
Lounging outside the pilot's chamber, Scorpius waited for his prey. John's defenses were at an all-time low. This was the perfect chance to convince him to free both of them. In the meantime, Scorpy rolled in and around John's memories with glee. Which tragic moment in the Human's life to use against him?  
  
John appeared suddenly, and stood rubbing his lower lip with his thumb.  
  
"You waited for me. Good." He waved for his nemesis to follow. "Let's find someplace to talk."  
  
The Scorpy clone leapt to his feet. This was better than expected! "Yes, John. Let's talk."  
  
John turned to see if the sycophant was following. Why was he wearing DK's purple Hawaiian drinking shirt? John hadn't seen that ugly thing since he'd come down from Annapolis to party at DK's frat house years ago.  
  
His hand punched at the control button of a spare, out of the way sleeping chamber. No one slept on this tier. Scorpius stepped inside eagerly. This was the perfect opportunity to convince John of the merits of suicide - freedom for both of them.  
  
Without a pause, John's fist smashed at the controls a second time, trapping the half-breed inside. A lopsided grin stretched John's face, a smile that didn't reach his enraged glare.  
  
"No crap outta you now. Don't leave this cell, under any circumstances." John's voice dropped to a whisper. "I'm through with you for tonight."  
  
As John backed away, the clone threw himself at the bars, clinging to them like a monkey in a cage, and screaming out in frustration at his lost opportunity.  
  
"What's the matter, John? Did Wonderland run out of charm? You've come a long way since you tumbled out of that rabbit hole."  
  
***  
  
That was it, end of the day for this cowboy. I sat on the end of my bed long enough to get rid of the boots, then just walked out of my clothes and into the shower. After adjusting the temperature to as hot as it would go, I let it beat between my shoulder blades, hoping for some relief.  
  
Right now, standing too long in any one place was a bad idea. I was either gonna fall asleep or think.  
  
Maybe this was a good time to update Dad. E.T., phone home.  
  
Wrapping the towel around me, I dug out my tape recorder. I sat down at the table, flicked on the recorder's button and tried to think of what to say. No, this was a bad idea too. Shit. I shoved the damn thing across the table.  
  
Bare feet padded into the room. I wasn't surprised. Aeryn had changed out of her PK leathers and into soft black pants and shirt, the UT version of sweats. I had always wondered what she would look like wearing another color, like blue. The impossible blue of her eyes. She'd be gorgeous- all that dark hair and pale skin. Beautiful.  
  
Those eyes were boring into my own eyes now. I couldn't read what was behind them.  
  
Frowning, I raised a hand to halt her progress across the room. Whatever she wanted-good or bad-I just couldn't deal with it right now.  
  
"Aeryn," I breathed. "I'm not really up for this tonight." When she didn't stop-when she continued to move towards me-I moved to turn away, my hand still upraised. "Aeryn, no. Whatever you have to say, it can wait until morning."  
  
Still turning, I was shocked by the feeling of her fingers abruptly tangling with mine, holding me in place in the chair. Wordlessly, she stepped behind me and leaned close, brushing the side of my face with her cheek. Her arms wrapped around my bare shoulders and a kiss was pressed into my damp hair.  
  
"I'm not here to talk," she said, tugging on my hands until I stood and faced her. This time she kissed me gently on the lips. It felt good, almost too good, but I knew I had to stop this now.  
  
Before I added to my weeken of mistakes.  
  
I pulled away, still clutching her hand. "Aeryn, baby, this is just not a good time. I am too frelling tired to figure out what you want and why you are here." I hoped she understood, as my entire being pleaded for understanding. That there had been more than enough pain lately, and there was no sense tempting fate. After a microt, she froze, giving me hope that maybe, somewhere, some part of her did understand.  
  
For the space of a breath, she stared over my shoulder, listening to some inner demon. Her hands stroked up and down my sides, as if she was reassuring herself that I was real, solid and warm. Moistening her lips with the tip of her tongue, she wrapped her arms around my waist and yanked my hips against hers. Hard.  
  
Against my better judgment, I couldn't help but respond to that invitation. A small sound, like a growl, came from somewhere low in my throat, and one hand was already cupping the back of her head, tilting her face up for a kiss. It started soft and sweet - sharing grief, giving comfort. Her mouth was, as always, cold inside. It was a startling sensation, and yet so appealing. My other hand explored the cool, alabaster smooth skin of her back, every muscle, every curve of her body, pale and perfect. I continued to hold her as that kiss built between us, so strong, so right. And when it finally exploded with all this passion, tumbling her, leaving her gasping, only my two hands, holding her so close, kept her upright.  
  
Too much, I thought. Too much...  
  
Too much more and I wouldn't be able to stop.  
  
With a groan I tore my mouth away and whispered harshly into her ear, "Go. Please. Just go."  
  
Aeryn pulled back, letting her gaze travel up my body, finally meeting my eyes. Whatever she saw there made her smile sadly, before kissing me again, as she had begun, soft and gentle. Then she pulled me to her, holding me close, her strong arms clutching me, with a desperation I had never felt from her before.  
  
Silently we stood there, holding each other, trying to come to grips with the events that had turned our entire existence upside down in so short a time. Trying to find the vital piece that had been removed, leaving us empty and barren inside.  
  
Finally, I pulled us both down onto the bed, still hugging her, as we both fell asleep. I didn't know if I would wake up alone the next day, but one thing was certain as I felt the moisture growing between us.  
  
Earth men do cry. And so do Sebacean women.  
  
Fin.  
  



End file.
